Liar
by CatarinaRites
Summary: The end of the war, as seen through the eyes of Draco.  AU!


**A/N: **I wrote this little ficlet a while ago, and recently had my sister (risenmitten) read it over. She ended up helping me, and so this became a joint project. She wrote the parts that are in parenthesis and I wrote the story itself. If you read the text without the italics, the story makes sense. The italics are the more desperate, in-depth thoughts Draco has. I hope you find this as interesting as my sister and I did!

Also: This is dedicated as a (late) Christmas present to my lovely Erin! Love youuu!

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the characters thereof are not mine!**

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><p>As the battle ended and the Order members lowered their wands, Draco looked around. He could see two figures in the distance <em>(shrouded in the heavy mist)<em>—one with bushy brown hair _(forming a familiar tangle)_ and the other with short red hair _(marking him as a Weasley better than any nametag)_—crouched over something _(huddled close together and looking down upon a dark shape) _on the ground at the edge of the Forest _(that had featured in his nightmares since his detention first year)_. He cursed himself for letting them out of his sight and letting them get so far away from him during the battle.

Draco took off running and stumbled, _(his feet sliding on the sticky slick of the saturated grass,)_ almost falling to the ground, but caught himself just in time and resumed his headlong rush towards the pair.

As Draco came closer, he noticed a foul smell hanging close in the air. It smelled of burning flesh, salty, rank sweat, and had the heavy, metallic tang of blood. He was gagging, his body rebelling against the smell _(despotic stench)_, but he pushed himself onwards _(the same merciless drive that had kept him alive in the heat of battle)_. He had almost reached the couple.

Bodies were strewn haphazardly around, as though flung outwards, away from the forest, by a strong wind. Blood coated the ground, adding a dark, wet sheen to the previously dry dirt _(as the so long starving trees reached up their thirsty roots to soak up the coppery moisture)_. Off to the side a pale shape, clad in a dark robe lay motionless on the ground, surrounded by a guard detail of Order members, including Moody and Shackelbolt, but Draco wasn't worried about the Dark Lord right now. _(the Dark Lord was the very least of the concerns that laid burden within Draco's chest.)_

He finally came to a stop behind Hermione and Ron, wheezing and gasping for air _(as he desperately tried to deny what he already knew to be an irrefutable truth)_. The pair turned to look at him, and their faces _(telling a tale of unfathomable anguish)_ made the breath catch in Draco's throat. He let out a sob _(Despite all his years of carefully cultivated control it came, wrenched from his throat) _and he collapsed, only to be caught by _(in the trembling arms of)_ Ron. That the red head was even willing to touch Draco was a testament to the severity of the situation, and Draco found himself sobbing harder, completely losing control _(of his iron fisted grasp of his emotions)_.

Hermione reached out for him _(with shaking hands) _and pulled him into a tight hug _(burying her face into his shoulder)_ as they cried together. Hermione had, for some reason _(reasons as yet still unknown to him)_, been the only one who had been supportive towards Draco when he first switched sides and joined the Order two years ago. She had become his first 'friend.' Ron, although always friendly, hadn't ever really liked Draco.

Now that Hermione had moved, Draco was able to see the body lying in front of him, the body the couple had been crouched next to. The man on the ground was beautiful, even now, with his tousled black hair matted with blood and sticking to his skull, cuts and bruises marring his face, and his green eyes staring lifelessly _(into the glassy oblivion of death)_.

It was too much to take in _(and Draco felt his walls tremble as they crashed down around him)_. Draco pulled himself away from Hermione's embrace sharply and fell to his knees at Harry's head.

"You said you wouldn't leave me," Draco whispered, his voice full of emotion _(his voice filled with accusations and the agony that threatened to overwhelm him)_, "You said you'd always be there."

Draco could hardly see the boy in front of him anymore through the tears that wouldn't stop falling _(clouding his vision in a watery curtain of sorrow)_. Hermione put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, _(Through the hazy turmoil in his mind, Draco felt Hermione's hand settle lightly on his shoulder, in a gesture that was meant to be comforting but only felt oppressive) _and Draco wanted to shrug it off, wanted to tell the pair behind him to leave him alone, get away from him. He wanted to scream _(and rage)_ at them for letting Harry die, _(for not being there for their best friend when he needed them most, for letting him fall into the darkness of death so violently.)_ but Draco hadn't been there for him, either.

"You said you'd never let me be alone," Draco choked out, his uncontrollable sobs _(the uncontrollable sobs that wracked through his slender frame) _made speaking difficult, and the remaining members of the Golden Trio standing weeping behind him didn't help _(him retain his fragile hold over his shattering heart. How was he supposed to keep it together if Harry wasn't there to hold the pieces for him?)_.

Draco reached out and closed Harry's eyes gently _(his fingers quivering with the weight of the weariness within his soul)_. He couldn't bear to see the usually bright and fiery eyes of his love so lifeless and dull. He smoothed the tangled hair back from Harry's face and watched as a _(lone) _tear splashed onto the Hero's forehead, washing away a bit of the caked blood.

Draco's chest felt hollowed, as though whatever had been inside had been scooped out and discarded, leaving him empty. _(If Harry wasn't there, how could anything else be, either?)_ He leaned forward and rested his forehead on Harry's chest, wrapping his arms around Harry's unresponsive body _(for the final time)_.

"Liar."

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><p><strong>AN: **Hope you all enjoyed that! For anyone who reads the other works that I'm in the middle of writing (_Of War _and _Picking Up the Pieces_), I promise I'm still working on them, and I am coming back, even though it's been a while! Thanks for sticking with me!

I LOVE YOU ALL.

-Cat


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